Bloodline: for Diane Corkum 1955-1989

by janeeatonhamilton

Excerpted from my collection, Body Rain. In 1989, a few blocks from where I now sit, on Laurel Street in Vancouver, my friend Diane was shot through her sliding glass doors near Hallowe’en night, when everyone mistook the noise of the gunshot for fireworks. Eventually (many years later) her ex’s brother was convicted of the crime. This is a solemn poem for Hallowe’en, and also a cautionary poem during this week in which we consider male violence.